


Scientific Method

by Tarlan



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: Character Study, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-15
Updated: 2007-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan reflects on technology...and Billy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> For the lj community smallfandomfest challenge: Jurassic Park 3 - Alan/Billy - Scientific Method

He had never had a lot of luck with modern technology. For some inexplicable reason, modern appliances refused to work around him as if they recognized that he had his head firmly buried in the prehistoric past and resented him access to the present. Phones would lose their signal, computers would show the infamous blue screen of death and even the microwave in his trailer had taken offense at a simple request to heat a bowl of soup, something Ellie had done time and time again without a problem.

Billy found it totally hilarious. Billy had this theory that it was an overabundance of static electricity in his body - that or some unknown superpower - and was certain this was the reason why the computers fuzzed up when Alan put a finger within inches of the monitor. Of course, being the consummate scientist, Billy wanted to prove this theory, so Alan was convinced his assistant was scouring the Internet and science journals seeking out any technology used in their field just so he could see how they reacted to Alan's presence.

Alan thought of all the equipment sitting in the control tent; the imaging device that sent a pulse into the ground to reveal fossilized remains, the electronic stereomicroscope, pneumatic drills and electric air blowers to blow away sand and dust particles. None of it worked for him. The air blower line kinked, the drill went crazy and every time he even poked a finger near the image on the monitor for the pulse machine, the damn thing flickered and died. Yet, every few months some new gadget would turn up, mostly on trial or loan, and Billy would beam at him as Alan approached it tentatively.

It should have irritated him and if anyone other than Billy had tried this scientific method to determine Alan's problem with technology then he would have told them to pack up their bags and get the hell off his dig. Billy was different though, and had been from the moment he signed up for Alan's postgraduate program at the university all those years ago. Perhaps it was his carefree nature and his bubbling laughter that breathed life into the musty old bones of Alan's chosen profession or perhaps it was his enthusiasm, his willingness to hang from a flimsy harness over the side of a mesa just to dig away the sands of time from around a fossilized skeleton.

He had not been surprised when Billy told him about the hang gliding and, in a fatalistic way, Billy's leap from the pteranodon walkway with a slightly damaged parachute should not have shocked him as much as it had. He had known from the very first click of the safety harness what Billy intended to do even if he could not believe it at the time.

Had he ever been so enthusiastic that he would place his life in the hands of a few thin pieces of rope and a battered sail? Alan did not think so. No. He had always chosen the safe ground to dig upon, finding enough evidence for his own theories in the badlands of Montana, and in Utah and Nevada, and avoided the need to fight for dig rights in some foreign land. Plus, Montana was almost on his doorstep so he could combine practical and theoretical pursuits, and teach too.

As a child he had dreamed of real dinosaurs but, as an adult he had never imagined coming face to face with real thing, with Gallimimus and brachiosaurus. He never thought he would be running for his life from a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Spinosaurus, from Pteranodon... and Velociraptors.

Fine sand sifted through his fingers as he carefully brushed away the final millennia of time layered over the fossilized bones of an Albertosaurus. The tiny grains stuck beneath his fingernails, making them itchy and sore, and managed to find other crevices to fill despite the layer of clothing supposedly protecting his body from the dust and from the heat of the sun.

Alan raised his head and stared across the desolate landscape, dragging his hat from his head and wiping his heavily perspiring forehead with the back of a sand-coated hand. He felt the irritation of the fine particles rasp against his skin like an emery board. He stopped when he heard the sound of the trailer door opening and smiled as Billy stood on the threshold, revealing his midriff as he stretched lazily after his midday siesta. He needed the sleep these days for his body had not fully recovered from the slash of talons and the peck of sharp beaks, though it was only a matter of time now.

Billy spotted him and grinned brightly, his long strides eating up the distance between them until he was kneeling down beside Alan. He held out a new gadget, battery operated and Alan sighed and shook his head as the electronic toothbrush buzzed quite happily in Billy's hand only to splutter and die as soon as Alan touched it.

Billy's laughter filled his ears and Alan had to smile because there had been a day too recently when he thought he would never hear that laughter again, or see those brown eyes shining with pleasure. He reached out and grabbed Billy by the back of the neck dragging him forward, and kissed him hard. Billy struggled and pulled back, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth with a moue of distaste. He spat a couple of times, nose wrinkling, and then he was grinning madly.

"Dust and sand gets everywhere!" he exclaimed, wiping at his full lips again but then he got that look in his eye, the one that pinned Alan like a bug in a collector's trophy case. Billy jumped to his feet and tugged on Alan's arm, hauling him up too. Within moments they were in the trailer, clothes dropping to the floor, scattering fine sand and dust along the small corridor, through the kitchen and into the tiny shower cubicle that was barely big enough for one person let alone two grown men.

The water cascading down over him was a luxury Alan would never refuse but the warm flesh sliding against his was as necessary to him now as breathing, his hands worshiping the silken skin, desperate to reaffirm Billy's living presence. Billy laughed softly as always, indulging Alan before swooping in to give him the kind of dirty kiss that could not be washed away, staining his very heart and soul with adoration and love.

In the cramped shower, elbows and knees banged until they were locked together, legs entangled, arms wrapped around each other and cocks caught in the press of flesh on flesh, groin against groin. Water and liquid soap slicked bodies gave perfect friction as they worked against each other, the heat of release lost within the cascading water.

Later, they lay together on the large bed, limbs still entangled with Billy's head pillowed on Alan's shoulder while Alan traced the worst of the slowly fading scars with callused fingers. Alan smiled Billy sighed in contentment.

Perhaps modern technology hated him, but the kind of love he shared with Billy was as old as time, and the past adored Alan.

THE END


End file.
